caveat: zap-o-matic number 21

despite the auspicious feeling at the start, yesterday morphed into a rather bad day. i felt a bit gloomy when i got home after my session yesterday, for reasons that can only be chalked up to the chance firings of neurons connected to dark memories.

and so i lay down to take a nap, as i sometimes do. maybe at one PM i awoke to a feeling that could be described as severe flu symptoms. . . runny nose, congestion, coughing, and most noticebly, fever. i took medicine.

none of these are unwarranted given my current treatment. . . after all, the immune system is what is driving these symptoms, as my body does its best to fight the radiation burns appearing all over its insides. but the net effect was i felt like a zombie. i tried and failed to eat some pasta for lunch, and finally drank one of those nutrition drinks ive been given.

even without the sense of taste, they are vaguely offputting. . . i think they have a not-so-delicious aroma. i added a drop of vanilla extract and drank it. i was in a bit of a haze, but gave myself permission not to go to work.

that was a mistake. after napping again from 6 to 9, i got a call from ken at work. he was asking about the pile of written tests i has taken on thursday to be corrected. guiltily i realized i had utterly forgotten them. ken asked if the radiation was burning brain cells too. it was jokingly, and good natured, but i felt really badly about it. . . i take pride in my responsibility and work ethic. i screwed up.

i doubt im burning brain cells. . . but my brain is attached to a body that is struggling a bit lately. i think the brain is therefore detaching a bit. . . letting itself exist in the bodiless ether where things arent so frustrating. this leads to an inattentiveness vis-a-vis reality. sigh.

Caveat: at the crest of jeongbal hill

(Poem #14 on new numbering scheme)

at the crest of jeongbal hill
the trail levels off among pines
i pause
no one is around (but i feel
the city's there trolling the sky
just beyond the trees and rocks)
a nearby magpie tilts her head
whooshing her blue-green tail feather
as if angry or confused
while a brown cicada's husk
falls discarded from above
the air is heavy and flat
michelle's ghost touches my cheek
i look around unsurprised
she asks if i'm not prepared
to join her (sometimes she asks
things like that or follows me
as if no time had passed since)
no, i explain, i have things
various things still to do
like a fish in a deep stream
she moves away

What I’m listening to right now

David Lanz, “Green Into Gold.” This song came around randomly on my mp3 player while I was walking home from the hospital this morning. It is from the album Christophori’s Dream, which happens to be Michelle’s “suicide music” – it was what was in the CD player when she took her pills. That’s likely why her ghost visited.

picture[daily log: walking 5 km]

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